


you in your skinny jeans anyway

by peachfuzz (johniaurens)



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Stream of Consciousness, idk yall its messy, plot is optional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 06:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12764877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johniaurens/pseuds/peachfuzz
Summary: This town’s never seen anyone like her before.





	you in your skinny jeans anyway

**Author's Note:**

> yall ok im a year late to this fandom but here take This pls
> 
> titles from sex by the 1975, also the name of [this beronica playlist i made](https://playmoss.com/en/laflams/playlist/you-in-your-skinny-jeans-anyway) yr welcome

She could call herself machinegun fire, she guesses. Ashrain. She’s got blood stuck between her teeth. There’s got to be some significance buried in all this hubris, all this indestructible madness. The mechanical wind shiny and beautiful in her hair. This town’s full of destruction for destruction’s sake. She walks and the ground shakes. She’s trying to make it stop, but it’s no use. The girl’s no use. She accepts this. The girl’s got coffee stained teeth. She’s used to walking on ground much sturdier than this. This town’s never seen anyone like her before.

There’s birds in the distance. She thinks of herself as the harsh wind on their backs and shivers. She’s got blood stuck between her teeth. 

The other girl’s angrier than she is. Calls herself plan B. Veronica knows better but she says nothing. Betty’s been here for a long time. She’s molded herself into the shadows that litter the hallways of any given building. She’s the shape of any public space she can find. She’s got half moons all over her body. Veronica wants to fit her palms along the curve of her jaw or the shape of her knee. She’s kissed her once. If that’s all she’ll get then that’s okay. Betty sits on the edges of sidewalks and kicks her feet like a kid. Veronica follows the movement of her pink sneakers silently with her eyes and thinks she can smell the scent of artificial cherries. Maybe Betty’s chapstick. She licks her lips and tastes blood, for just a few seconds. This town’s never seen anything like her before. 

Betty’s a full stop disguised as a comma. She bends her body into the shape of a semicolon. When she says something it’s final, even if her voice shakes when she does it. Veronica likes the way she looks in the darkness. Light bounces off her white shoe laces like rubber balls. She always bounces back after she’s already said she won’t. Rubber balls. She’s always changing despite herself. She scares Veronica, sometimes – her relentless shotgun mouth and her soft, gentle heart. Surely there must be something that would make the juxtaposition impossible, she thinks. 

She keeps digging herself out of the ground with her own hands. She thinks, if someone here knows anything about reinventing oneself it’s Betty. If anyone here knows anything about what it’s like to want something more, something tangible enough to catch with your teeth but not with your hands, it’s Betty. There’s hungry desperation hidden somewhere in her little red heart and Veronica’s determined to dig it all out and bring it up to the surface. She thinks she loves her. Not that she knows anything about real love, but she’d like to. She thinks Betty, a soda bottle in her hand, sneakered feet still hanging off the pavement, knows something about love, but mostly she doesn’t. She wonders how their experiences align and match and what it’d take for them to collide like that. She thinks of her mouth. She thinks of that cherry scent of her lips. She’s drinking soda with her gum still in her mouth because there aren’t any garbage cans around and she won’t litter. Gum doesn’t biodegrade. Neither does her anger. Veronica thinks of her as an atomic bomb with the trigger hidden. Something beautiful, and dangerous, and frightening. She thinks of the blood stuck between her teeth. She thinks of herself as the blood, and Betty as the teeth. She thinks of shiny sharp teeth all night long. She walks herself and her aching teeth home. She doesn’t turn around to look back.

**Author's Note:**

> im on tumblr @ johniaurens hmu


End file.
